Making it Right
by MelodiousVengeance
Summary: "If anyone should be apologizing, it's me. This is my fault, but rest assure, I will make things right." Bash said, quietly waiting for a response a moment before he realized her breath had evened out, she had fallen back to sleep. He sighed and leaned his head down to touch her hand to his face, breathing in her scent and awaiting the arrival of Nostradamus and his little brother.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: so of course after last night's wonderful Mash scene and the promo for next week, I haaad to write another story. Here's hoping there is much more Mash to come, I'm definitely loving it so far, and I hope you guys will love this story. If you have the time, please don't forget to review, they make my day and help the creative juices flow.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Reign.**

The whole castle must have heard that scream. Bash had been lying in his bed, his mind racing. He was a mistake, that was what she had said. She had been the one to instigate the kiss; he had merely allowed it to continue. He wanted her to see that he didn't mind her taking that step in the least. Since her return Bash had fantasized about moments similar to that kiss. The first kiss, the touches that would follow, the fun it would e sneaking her about the castle so they could find a place to be alone.

All thoughts were thrown from his mind when he heard that scream. He opened his eyes faster than an arrow leaves the boy and he was sitting up almost as quickly. He didn't think, he knew that voice, he'd know it anywhere. He took hold of his sword practically sprinting to his door, his bare feet slapping the ground as he shot the though door and started down the hall, the guards moving too slow for his liking.

"Mary?" Bash called out anxiously as he ripped her door open, now was not the time for formalities. He didn't care if she was properly dressed, she was in danger.

Bash stopped short as he took in the scene in front of him. Mary lay in her bed, chest heaving, her hands across her chest. It was probably the position she had fallen asleep in the night before, she looked too stunned to move, her mouth was hanging open, her eyes fixed on the deer head that was suspend above her bed like some sick chandelier. She didn't even seem to be aware anyone had entered her chambers.

"Mary," Bash called softly, moving to the side of her bed as the guards finally made it into her room. "Mary," Bash called again as he reached out and touched her arm lightly, sitting on the edge of her bed. He felt awful when she jumped, knowing this was his fault. He had been warned, if he didn't choose someone, they would, and this message was clear.

"Bash," Mary said, like a little girl who had been lost in the woods and was finally home. He could hear the voices talking in the room, though he chose to ignore them. They weren't important right now. As soon as May was aware that someone was there for her, that she was safe, she lifted her torso from the bed and wrapped her arms around Bash's neck in a vice grip, her whole body trembling. Mary was a strong young woman, but Bash couldn't blame her for being shook up.

"I have you," Bash said as he shifted so he could place his sword hand under her knees and draw her from the bed and away from the grizzly sight. No one said a word as he moved to the door with his little brother's fiancés. Instead they all just stared at him, as if asking what they were supposed to do.

"Get that thing down. Inform my father what's happened, I'll speak with Francis," as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the guards moved into action, two running through the door before him to find the King, the other three moving towards Mary's bed to take down the head.

"Where are we going?" questioned Mary, her face pressed into his neck, his wraps yet to shift from their chock hold.

"To Nostradamus. You've had quite the morning, and you're shaking," Bash informed her as he moved on. He didn't even notice the cold on his feet as he moved, his mind fully focused on Mary and her well being.

After that the two remained silent as they moved through the castle. The next words that came from Bash's lips were yelled once he had tossed open the door. "Nostradamus!" he cried, moving Mary to the bed he had thought would his death bed only a short while ago. He laid her down, and was ready to go searching for the Seerer, but Mary took hold of his hand, as he looked to her face to question her, the reason became all too clear.

"You'll never leave my sight," Bash promised, and Mary let go of his hand. He moved to the door again and yelled to one of the guards at the end of the hall. "Fetch Nostradamus, quickly. And inform my brother I need to see him at once." Bash told him, the guard turned to look at him, a look of confusion on his face which caused ash to start losing his temper. "Go, now." He told the guard, which finally set him into action, racing off.

Once the guard was dispatched, Bash moved back to Mary, taking up a seat next to her bed, reaching for her hand to make sure she understood that he was there, and that he wasn't going anywhere. She needed someone right now, and even though the news of a deer head hanging over the Queen's bed would quickly make its course through the castle, Bash didn't think she would want to explain what had happened to her ladies in waiting at the moment. What she needed was rest an a moments breath to recover and get her thoughts together.

"I'm sorry I called you a mistake. That was unkind of me," Mary finally said, her eyes were closed, and Bash had assumed she had gone back to sleep.

He gave a soft smile, resisting the desire to reach over and rush the hair from her face. "Don't worry about that right now," he told her. True her words had hurt, he had always been called a mistake, even his birth had been a mistake, but never once had anyone apologized for it.

"If anyone should be apologizing, it's me. This is my fault, but rest assure, I will make things right." Bash said, quietly waiting for a response a moment before he realized her breath had evened out, she had fallen back to sleep. He sighed and leaned his head down to touch her hand to his face, breathing in her scent and awaiting the arrival of Nostradamus and his little brother. Dreading the need to explain what had happened.

"Heaven help me," he whispered as he heard the tell tale sounds of boots running down the corridor.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Tada, how about another chapter? I actually found this chapter sort of fun to write. I think I might try and write a little more Nostradamus, he's rather interesting. Though I think I need a little work on capturing his essence, hopeful he isn't too awful. I wanted to thank you all for your response to this story so far, I'm amazed by how many alerts and reviews it has already, it means so much to me. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Reign.**

"Bash," the words were out of Francis' mouth before he was even in the room.

Bash raised his head from Mary's hand and turned to see his little brother standing in the door, frozen in place.

"What- Mary?" Francis cried as he stumbled forward, his body suddenly going into overdrive as he saw his fiancée lying so still on a sick bed. Bash had to jump up in order to catch his brother as he trip over his own feet in his rush to reach her bedside.

"She's fine. She's asleep, had a scare," Bash told Francis, easing him into the chair had had previously been occupying. Francis' hands shook a little as he reached out for Mary's hand, taking over watch as Sebastian had been doing just moments before. Bash almost felt cheated, he had been the one to come to Mary's rescue, yet when she opened her eyes again, it would be Francis there, acting as protector.

"What happened?" Asked Francis, his eyes scanning Mary up and down taking inventory of any apparent injuries, finding none, he finally turned to look up at his brother.

"There was the head of a slaughtered deer above her bed when she woke this morning," Bash explained, knowing full well what this meant, but not wanting to burden his brother with all the details. He had hoped that Nostradamus would arrive first so that he might be able to speak with him. Out of everyone in the castle, he would be the one who would know best what they were dealing with. At least, what he was dealing with. This should not have happened, he had been the one to remove the bodies, and he should have been the one to bare the consequences.

"The head of a deer? Who would do something like this?" disgust rightfully colouring his words. Bash should have known he wouldn't be able to hide something like this from his brother, but there had been hope nonetheless.

"The Pagan's in the wood," Bash told him, his eyes searching his brother's face, waiting or the accusations. He already knew that Bash knew one of their prayers, and he was sure his brother would suspect that he knew what was going on now, which was true. Bash did understand what the deer head meant. That Mary had become the chosen sacrifice for his mistakes.

"The Pagan's? Why would the Pagan's wish to scare Mary half out of her mind?" Francis' face held an accusatory look, one which Bash couldn't' blame hi for. The older man sighed and began to pace across the floor.

"They've chosen her. She's to have her neck slit, and hung upside down like some sacrificial lamb," the venom in his words was obvious. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he stopped his pacing and turned to his brother, ready for his wrath.

It took a moment or two for the words to sink, but Bash saw the moment they did. Francis' face changed into an expression that could rival a demon's and he stood up so quickly the chair he had been seated on tumbled backwards. "A sacrificial lamb? What have you done?" and there it was. The accusations that this was all Bash's fault, without knowing the whole story, Francis knew, just like that.

"I took the bodies from the wood. Colin, that's Scottish boy, I took him down as they were bleeding him out, the same with Olivia's driver. I wasn't going to leave them hanging there. One of the Pagan's came to me a few nights ago, saying I had to pay my debt and chose someone to sacrifice. I refused and they said they would choose someone for me." No sooner were the words out of Bash's mouth than Francis had his hands fisted in the colour of his linen shirt, and Bash allowed him. He knew he could easily throw his little brother off, but he didn't. Whatever he had coming to him, he deserved it.

"You need to remedy this," he spat, fire in his eyes. The young prince was pulling back his arm as Nostradamus walked in, taking in the sight before him.

"What the Hell is going on here?" asked the giant of a man, walking over to the two brothers and taking them both by the arms to pull them apart, not much caring that one was the future King of France.

"Fix this. If anything should happen to her," Francis allowed his threat to be left open for interpretation. Unable to look at his brother any longer, he turned back to right the chair he had been sitting on and took hold of Mary's hand again, holding tight, as if he were afraid the Pagan's would show up at any moment and attempt to rip her from his very grasp.

"The Pagan's have marked her for sacrifice," responded Bash to Nostradamus' unasked question as they stood there together looking at Mary and Francis.

"How do I stop this?" Bash questioned, finally able to tear his stare from two of the most important people in his life.

"Why her?" Nostradamus questioned, rather than answered. Bash immediately felt trapped. Should he tell the older man what had happened? Or should he lie? With something this serious, he was afraid of what his lies could mean, what misinformation could mean, but he knew, that he needed to protect Mary's reputation, so he merely shrugged.

"I care for my brother, and he cares for her?" Bash gave his reply, holding strong, hoping the Seerer wouldn't call his lie. If he noticed something was off, he said nothing, instead rubbing the rough hairs at his chin.

"You must choose a sacrifice, find someone to replace the Queen," Nostradamus told him, though he seemed unsure in his response. It would seem that Bash was on his own, as the only man who might know more about this than he, had little idea what he needed to do to prevent Mary from dying.

"I will not have blood on my hands," Bash said, making up his mind as he began to walk out of the room, hearing Nostradamus calling out to him, asking for his plan, though he chose not to share. As soon as his mind had been made up, he knew he they would attempt to stop him. he made directly for his room to retrieve his boots and sword. He and the Pagan's were going to have a little chat.


End file.
